ut the species lacks the dignified
formality of the Italian garden or the ingenious arrangement of the
French. Its curves and ovals and circles are annoying after the _lignes
droites_ and the right angles and the _broderies_ of the French variety.

The Foret de Chantilly covers two thousand four hundred and forty-nine
hectares and extends from the Bois de Herivaux on one side to the Foret
de Senlis on the other. The _rendezvous-de-chasse_ was, in the old days,
and is to-day on rare occasions, at the Rond Point, to which a dozen
magnificent forest roads lead from all directions, that from the town
being paved with Belgian blocks, the dread of automobilists, but
delightful to ride over in muddy weather. The Route de Connetable, so
called, is well-nigh ideal of its kind. It launches forth opposite the
chateau and at its entrance are two flanking stone lions. It is of a
soft soil suitable for horseback riding, but entirely unsuited for
wheeled traffic of any kind.

Another of the great forest roads leads to the Chateau de la Reine
Blanche, a diminutive edifice in the pointed style, with a pair of
svelte towers coiffed candle-snuffer fashion. Tradition, and very
ancient and somewhat dubious tradition, attributes the edifice as having
belonged to Blanche de Navarre, the wife of Philippe de Valois. Again it
is thought to have been a sort of royal attachment to the Abbaye de
Royaumont, built near by, by Saint Louis. This quaintly charming manor
of minute dimensions was a tangible, habitable abode in 1333, but for
generations after appears to have fallen into desuetude. A mill grew up
on the site, and again the walls of a chateau obliterated the more
mundane, work-a-day mill. The Duc de Bourbon restored the whole place in
1826 that it might serve him and his noble friends as a hunting-lodge.

CHAPTER XXI

COMPIEGNE AND ITS FOREST

One of the most talked of and the least visited of the minor French
palaces is that of Compiegne. The archeologists coming to Compiegne
first notice that all its churches are "_malorientees_." It is a minor
point with most folk, but when one notes that its five churches have
their high altars turned to all points of the compass, instead of to the
east, it is assuredly a fact to be noticed, even if one is more
romantically inclined than devout.

Through and through, Compiegne, its palace, its hotel-de-ville, its
forest, is delightful. Old and new huddle close together, and the _art
nouvea